


A Lovely Fight: (a finer one I know I'll never see)

by Abhorsen44



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: AU Rogue One, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 19:54:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11562207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abhorsen44/pseuds/Abhorsen44
Summary: Baze is a bouncer who doesn't recognize trouble when it comes strolling into his nightclub. Chirrut is a man with a mission. There is a lot of fighting, but who wins? And how exactly does a cane become a staff become a crossbow?





	A Lovely Fight: (a finer one I know I'll never see)

A Lovely Fight:  
(a finer one I know I’ll never see)

 

Baze could be excused for letting the man past him into the nightclub. It was a slow night and there hadn’t been anything unusual about the man except for his dark sunglasses and cane, which was a little out of place at the hipster Jedha Nightclub but not unheard of. Baze was hired for his height, muscles, and intimidating glower; his main purpose was scaring off the obvious dealers and trouble-makers. Bouncer was a step down from teaching martial arts to Navy Seals, but at least it was easy to stand at a door and look mean. The small man who entered pinged Baze’s interest, but not in a bad way – his tightfitting trousers and button down shirt were in shades of blue and he moved with a gliding step that Baze admired as the man swept past him into the club. 

Baze was seriously out of practice at spotting trouble. The second he got the call over the headset he knew it had something to do with the beautiful man who walked like an assassin. Baze cursed at himself as he banged on the door to let the inside man know to come out and block the entrance. He clapped Bodhi on the shoulder as he went past into the nightclub. 

The music was still playing, at least; some poor jazz song that had been butchered and hipsterized to a frantic dance beat, but no one was dancing. There was a wide circle around the dancefloor that Baze had to push through. He could hear Saw shouting at everyone to calm the fuck down and where the fuck was Baze and goddamn it he hated it when the boss got involved. As Baze neared the bar he handed Jyn his headset before wading in. There were bodies on the floor already, which was not a good sign. 

At a glance it looked like the small man with the cane was outnumbered, but as he deftly disarmed another man Baze realized that the group in matching jackets was definitely on the losing side. Baze gestured at Saw to keep everyone out of it as he waded into the middle. 

“Hello. Please stop.” 

Baze always said that. It cracked Jyn up, but Baze said it was only fair to ask first. The small man with the cane actually responded by standing up out of his fighting stance and raising his eyebrows above the dark glasses. The others not so much. They took Baze’s distraction as a chance to regroup and attack again. Baze grabbed a knife out of one of their hands and said, “No,” very firmly while squeezing the man’s wrist. It probably wasn’t broken. 

The cane whipped past his face to hit someone sneaking up beside him. Baze said, “Thank you, but also no,” and grabbed onto the cane. With a smile the smaller man twisted the back half of the cane until Baze was forced to let go and then extended it into a full staff. 

“Nice.” Said Baze. 

“Thank you,” said the man, with a faint Chinese accent, “but could you please stop interfering?” 

“I would,” said Baze, gracefully neck-punching another jacketed thug, “if you weren’t fighting inside Jedha.”

“Ah,” said the man, sounding almost sad, “then my apologies, Guardian.” The two danced around each other as they finished off the last of the other fighters, occasionally trading a punch or kick on the way by. Before long it was only the two of them left, and Baze noticed that Saw had cleared everyone else out of the club. Jyn was standing warily behind the bar, baseball bat in hand. 

It had been a while since Baze had fought anyone with training, much less someone proficient in his fighting style of Zama-shiwo. This stranger was holding his own as Baze drew closer, keeping him from getting a body hold by judicious use of his staff. Baze dodged a strike meant for his legs and kicked the staff into the motion, causing it to ricochet up into the man’s shoulder and knocking off his dark glasses. 

The man’s eyes were captivating, so light a blue as to be almost indistinguishable from the whites, with a film over the pupils. They were striking. They were eerie, and beautiful. They were also clearly blind. Baze stopped mid-motion. 

Not his best idea. 

The man smiled, his eyes staring at nothing as he casually kicked a stunned Baze to the floor. Baze managed to roll out of the way of the staff, but was caught by an unexpected back swing. As he lay on the floor re-considering his life choices, the blind stranger walked unerringly to one of the downed fighters and began dragging him away by the ankle. It was slow going, almost comical, and Baze let out a pained laugh as the sound of police sirens got louder. 

The blind man stopped, considering his options. “You!” he said imperiously, impossibly pointing directly at Baze, “Giant! I require your assistance.” 

Baze stood up warily, bruised but thankfully not concussed, “The police are on their way; put your staff on the floor and your hands in the air, please.” 

“Pfshah!” the other man said, setting his staff gently on the ground, “Fine, fine – I just need you to make sure this womp-rat doesn’t escape police custody again.” 

“I don’t think either of you will be escaping police custody,” said Jyn, suddenly appearing next to the stranger. She was a sneaky one, that Jyn; she would be a great fighter if only she gave a shit. 

“Pfshah!” the man said again, primly sitting down one of the bar stools, one foot still carefully placed on the unconscious thug. He ran his hand along the bar, seemingly at random, and snagged a glass of abandoned drink. “What is this?” he asked Jyn, “Scotch?” 

Jyn snorted. “You wish. It’s bottom shelf crap.” The man took a sip and made a face. “I would have to agree.” Baze watched the man finish his drink, chatting amiably with Jyn who was, strangely enough, chatting amiably back, before hearing the words, “Police! Everyone put their hands in the air!”

The three of them put their hands in the air, the blind man still holding the empty glass, as the police began checking IDs and carrying out people. Baze, Jyn and the blind stranger ended up in one of the upstairs offices to wait for an inspector. “Isn’t that excessive for a bar fight?” Baze tried to ask as they were escorted into the room. The officer made a non-committal noise but as she left she told them to stay put. “Especially you, Îmwe!”

Baze looked at the man. “Does this happen to you often?”

“Pretty much on a daily basis,” the stranger – Îmwe – said airly, circling the room. Jyn had taken possession of the one sofa and appeared to be asleep somehow. When Îmwe reached the wall closest to Baze, Baze wondered if he should move or cough or something, or if Îmwe would just magically know to avoid where he was hunched against the wall. He was about to clear his throat when the door burst open to reveal a frothing Saw, followed shortly by what had to be the police inspector. 

“Hey boss.”

“SAS;KGRJGHURKLASDKJHA,” Saw howled, which Baze translated to mean ‘What the hell?’. He shrugged. Saw smacked him on the back of the head and headed towards the couch. Jyn growled, still appearing to be asleep, and Saw settled for kicking the side of the couch. 

“Oh, Luke!” Îmwe said happily, “How nice to see you. Haha. See you. Get it?”

“Yes, Chirrut, thank you,” said the inspector. “Mr. Malbus, Ms. Erso, my name is Inspector Skywalker and I am here to take your statement. Your employer has…insisted…on being present. Before we begin, does anyone have any injuries that need to be taken care of immediately?” 

The other police officers had already asked them that. Baze shrugged. Jyn snored. Îmwe – Chirrut? – laughed. 

“Right. Then let us begin.”

Baze listened as Jyn explained that Chirrut had walked up to a group of people in matching jackets and how a fight had immediately erupted, clearing the dance floor. Baze chimed in with what he had seen, which wasn’t much more than Chirrut kicking everyone’s ass. 

“As for me, officer, I didn’t see anything!” Chirrut chirped leaning up against Baze to face Inspector Skywalker. “Not. A. Thing.” 

“Goddamn it, Chirrut, still not funny,” the Inspector whined. “What the hell were you thinking?” 

“That Jedha was either a safehouse or a supplier for your little Stormtrooper gang,” Chirrut said tightly, “and that your department still hadn’t stopped the Kyber. I am not a patient man, Luke.”

“You aren’t a police officer, Chirrut,” Luke shot back, “not anymore. You have no jurisdiction, no backup, and are going to be either arrested or killed.”

“So you say,” Chirrut replied, suddenly amicable, “and yet...” He pulled a hunk of what looked like crystal out of his pocket. 

“Kyberrr,” hissed Saw. “Get that shit out of here. We don’t allow dealing in Jedha.” 

“Good to know,” said Chirrut, holding the Kyber out to Luke. “I was wondering why they spent so much time here but didn’t meet with their regular customers.” 

“Goddamn it, that is NOT how we collect evidence, Chirrut! Where did you even get this?” Luke snapped, pulling a plastic evidence bag out of his utility belt and carefully taking the Kyber. 

“You will find the rest in the possession of those little Stormtroopers you’ve just arrested. They have been arrested, I hope? I can trust you to do that at least.” 

“Stormtroopers?” Baze rumbled. 

“An unfortunate gang of drug dealers that have cropped up. Their new product is Kyber,” Luke gestured with the evidence bag, “We’ve been tracking their movements and they seem to spend a lot of time here, luckily they’re easy to spot because of the matching jackets and helmets.”

“Wait, what? They have matching jackets? That is so lame!” Chirrut chortled delightedly, leaning into Baze. Baze was hyper aware of Chirrut, and wondered if the man knew just how close he was getting. 

There was a knock at the door. Luke went to answer it, speaking quietly with the police officer from earlier outside the door. Baze simultaneously tried to lean away and lean into Chirrut, who continued to stand far too close. Saw had managed to wiggle his way onto the edge of the couch despite Jyn’s possessive kicking and was checking his phone. 

Luke returned. “I don’t know how you knew this, Chirrut, but tonight was when the Stormtroopers met with their supplier. That’s why they’ve been hanging around here, so it wouldn’t look suspicious when they showed up all at once. We recovered about 100 pounds of Kybar, which is by Leigh’s estimates about two months’ worth of sales. Not to mention at least half of the Stormtrooper top brass is now unconscious and handcuffed in an ambulance.” 

“You’re welcome,” Chirrut said.

“I’d say good work but it would only encourage you, you fighty bastard. You need to find a hobby, mate.” Luke headed towards the door, then stopped. “He didn’t have any weapons on him, did he?” Luke nodded at Chirrut. 

Baze was very conscious of the warm weight of Chirrut pressed against his side as the smaller man made an outraged noise at the Inspector’s accusation. 

“He had a cane,” was all Baze offered. Luke sighed and said, “At least you’ve stopped bringing your bloody crossbow with you. If I have to sign that into evidence one more time you’re never getting it back, you hear?!” And then Luke was gone. 

Baze was startled by Chirrut’s hand tracing up his back to his shoulders. “Hmmmm, giant wasn’t so far off, was it. You are big.” Chirrut said approvingly, his hand reaching Baze’s hair. “And hairy!” Baze leaned into Chirrut’s hand, glancing over at the couch. Saw was very carefully engrossed in his phone and Jyn appeared to be asleep again. 

“Would you like a proper drink?” Baze dared to ask, gazing down at Chirrut. 

“Aha!” Chirrut was pleased, “But what do you know about making a proper drink, bouncer-giant?!” Baze followed Chirrut through the door as he heard Jyn mumble, “Nothing. Not one thing.” 

“I can open a bottle, at least,” Baze offered, watching as Chirrut unerringly walked to his staff and hiked it up into his hands with some fancy foot work. “So… Zama-shiwo?”

“I thought you had some training!” Chirrut said excitedly, whirling the staff around into an attack posture before relaxing. 

“Some training? I was an instructor,” Baze said, not really offended. 

“Oof,” Chirrut teased, heading over to the bar, “you must be out of practice. Beaten by a blind man with a cane.” 

“Beaten by a master with a handmade staff. That also turns into a crossbow, apparently?”

“Isn’t it great?!” Chirrut smiled, happily accepting the scotch Baze had poured for him. Baze began picking up abandoned glasses from the bar and rinsing them out, just to have something to do with his hands. Chirrut finished his drink and grabbed Baze's elbow, tracing down his arm to hold his hand. Baze held his breath as Chirrut peered up at him. “Do you believe in destiny?” he asked solemnly. Baze whooshed out his breath on a hurtful laugh. No. 

“No.”

Chirrut waited, silently tracing Baze’s palm with his fingers. 

“I don’t believe in destiny. I believe in people.”

Chirrut’s face brightened and he reached up to clasp Baze’s shoulder, “Oh good! Then I can believe in destiny, and you can believe in me. Close enough.”

“What?” Baze laughed.

Chirrut looked mischievous, “I have a brilliant plan. Come with me?”

And Baze did. 

 

…..

 

[three months later]

“You stole him!” Jyn said angrily, punching out. 

“Hardly stealing, my dear, you knew Baze wasn’t going to stay a bouncer forever,” Chirrut admonished, nimbly dodging to the side before sweeping Jyn’s legs out from under her.

“It’s still stealing!” Jyn shouted from the floor, before flipping up and throwing herself at Chirrut. Baze had always suspected that Jyn would be a formidable fighter, and she had certainly proved herself in the four weeks since Baze & Chirrut’s training center had opened. Baze still had trouble believing that in a few short months he and Chirrut had opened a Zama-shiwo dojo and training center, and that he was back to doing what he loved most surrounded by the people he loved most. It was almost enough to make him believe in destiny. 

As if hearing his thoughts, Chirrut smiled over at Baze and dumped Jyn on the floor yet again. “Why don’t you work off some of that aggression against a punching bag?” he said to Jyn as he strolled towards Baze. 

Baze was as captivated by Chirrut’s eyes as he had been the first time they had met, and he barely heard Jyn’s muttered, “Ew,” before she scurried away. 

Chirrut leaned in towards Baze; “Hello, Guardian,” he said. “Hello, Trouble,” Baze rumbled back after a brief hello kiss. 

“She’s doing better but when she gets angry she has trouble controlling her actions,” Chirrut said, “I thought that boyfriend of hers was supposed to even her out?” 

Jyn’s boyfriend – ‘Cassian is a friend, you weirdos, people have friends’, Jyn would say pointedly – was the one who had talked her into starting classes. Apparently Jyn had been as busy as Baze that night at the bar and had managed to snag the attention of a young undercover police officer. 

Chirrut hooked his hand around Baze’s arm and began walking towards the office. “Ah, alas, your poor blind partner cannot fill out the mountain of paperwork that the incoming class requires, so sad, poor man. Can no one help him?” 

“Jerk,” Baze said affectionately, knowing full well that Chirrut was the one who had brought their dream to life, renovating the building, teaching classes, and making connections. If paperwork was the one thing Baze could do faster than Chirrut, then he wouldn’t complain about having to do it. Too much. 

“And our business cards came!” Chirrut said as they entered the office, pushing Baze towards an open package that was conspicuously perched in the middle of the desk. Raised font read out ‘Guardians of the Whills’ with a list of classes and contact information. 

“I thought we had decided on ‘Malbus Dojo’,” Baze teased, “Isn’t ‘Guardians of the Whills’ a little fru-fru?” 

“It was your idea, idiot!” Chirrut said, flinging one of the cards at Baze. Baze couldn’t help but laugh as he raced around the desk and caught Chirrut up in an enormous bear hug, lifting him off the floor.

“Unhand me, fiend!” Chirrut shouted, hugging Baze just as fiercely; “Just for that, you are banished to paperwork hell for the next half hour while I teach class!” Baze was laughing as he kissed Chirrut. 

Chirrut pouted when the kiss ended. “Well, have fun, I guess,” he said as he headed for the door. Baze was just about to sit when Chirrut paused and said, “Although…I suppose you could come and be my practice dummy for the four o’clock class. If you want to come with me.” 

And Baze did.


End file.
